


Turn the Page

by fictionallemons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Conversations in the Impala (Supernatural), Episode: s11e04 Baby, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, POV Impala (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: A bit of Baby from Baby's POV.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	Turn the Page

**Author's Note:**

> Artistic license: I rearranged the "with a hunter" conversation to be when they're talking, parked, Sam in the back, Dean in the front.

She knows Sam isn't going to go with Dean in the road house, but she's not half surprised when it's Sam who turns up a few hours later tugging at the door handle of the backseat, fumbling his way inside, a pretty blonde tumbling in after him. She'd noticed the signs on the drive earlier—jiggling leg, touching his hair a lot. Sam needed to get laid.

Dean's reaction isn't surprising either, surprised and impressed and little wistful, though he probably doesn't realize the wistful part comes through loud and clear. But she knows him and his tells even better than Sam's.

She's seen it before, Dean's oh-so-casual adjustment of the rear view mirror so he can watch Sam kiss some girl goodbye. The little huff of air he lets out when no one's looking, half proud, half pained. She can practically hear his heart speed up as he rubs his palms nervously on his leg. He wants Sam to have this, he needs Sam to have it. But it still costs him something to be happy about it.

Today, once the blonde is history, he's doing that overcompensating thing he does, and Sam pretends not to notice. Dean puts on one of her favorite albums, and they cruise. This is when she's happiest. The road winds out before her, music on the stereo, and her boys safe and inside, happy, talking, joking around.

It's late when they stop, and she's a little surprised they pull the blankets out of the trunk. They don't bunk down in her as often as they used to. It's not like when they were kids and they could fit side by side curled up in the back seat, where she kept them warm and protected til morning.

With Sam stretched out in the back seat, and Dean in the front, she's content. So content she doesn't really listen to what they're saying until she recognizes the tension in Sam's voice.

“You don't ever want something more…something…with a hunter, maybe?” Sam tries to keep his voice neutral, but she knows there are things he's not saying. Dean never seems to hear the hesitation, the hope. Dumbass.

"You're tired."

"No—I mean it, Dean."

"Nah. I've got you. You’re a hunter, right?" Does Dean know what he's saying?

"Yeah, but—"

"Well."

"And that's enough for you?"

"You've always been enough, Sam. I won't ask for any more than that."

Sam waits, then says, "What would you ask for?"

"Huh?"

"You said you wouldn't. But if you did—"

"I can't."

"But what if—"

"It's not something you can give me, Sam." Dean cross and irritable and saying more than he probably means to, but he's tired, she can tell.

"How do you know?"

"Because you don't want—"

"You said I was enough. Well, you've always been more than enough for me. Too much. So much I can't see anything else. And I don't want to. You don't know what I want."

A long, long pause.

"So what do you want, then?" Dean sounds confused. He really is a dumbass.

A huff of a laugh. "I think that's the first time you've ever really asked me that."

"Then tell me."

"I want us. And if that means this, as long as we can hold on, then that's okay." Sam's voice softens. "But I want more, too."

Dean's response comes quick, defensive. "Like, a chick. Little hunter babies."

"No, you moron. More with you. If you want. Ask for something for yourself for once in your life."

There's a silence so long she things maybe one of them fell asleep. She's thinking about zoning out, too. Then Dean's voice cuts through the silence, soft but rough, and oh-so-careful.

"I can't ask for anything from you, Sam. I mean, I can't take anything. What we have is enough."

"Enough." Sam's voice is flat. "Right."

"Right." Dean's voice is brisk. Disappointed.

Then there's no more talking. Sam's folding himself over the seat, the leather squeaking and her chassis creaking a little with the weight adjustment. Sam's right in Dean's space. The look on his face after Sam kisses him is priceless. Shock and disbelief and something else coming up through the cracks. Whatever that is, hope, need, lust, love, she's not sure, but it's strong stuff, powerful enough for Dean to grab Sam by the shirt and haul him back in.

After that, she tries to give them as much privacy as she can, but the grunts and moans are hard to tune out. In a little while, they're tangled up on the front seat, Sam somehow folded against his brother's chest. There's a little bit of magic in the way two large men can share the space as easily as they do. She's always felt that she expands to hold them however they need to be held. And right now, they're holding each other, and she's holding them, and they fall asleep like that, the three of them, safe and sound, with the road waiting to greet them in the morning.


End file.
